Originally written in March of 2022

To be honest, when I stop and think about all that has gone on since May 29, 2007 (the night that Greg died) all we’ve endured, all we’ve walked through – crawled through – dug our way out of – held onto what we could grab – when it seemed like hope was floating away, I realize I’m holding my breath.

When I let myself actually experience all those feelings of fear, anger and sorrow that seemed like they would never end. The mind-numbing disbelief at what was actually occurring. The never ending ‘what-if’s and the “I’ll never’s”, finds me asking myself how we survived.

When I allow myself to relive the most horrible moments – the times when I thought I would actually loose my mind and end up a shell of the person I once was. I can feel the physical and mental ache I had at that time.

When I sit and quietly reflect on the exceedingly hard and compounding events that collided with each other – it truly takes my breath away.

And then I register where I’m at today, and how far I’ve come. I am still here and really enjoying life. I’m pursuing new adventures and challenges. When I see my own personal growth – I have to pause – because there are days I didn’t think I would survive.

There was a night several months ago where I laid in bed and sobbed for almost 2 hours straight (until I literally cried myself to sleep), and I just kept saying over and over, “I just want to stop hurting! I don’t want to live with anymore grief and heartache.”

I wasn’t suicidal – but I was at a place I’d never been before – and it was scary. I didn’t want to die, but I also didn’t really want to keep living if it meant more pain and heartache – it felt like too much to endure, to carry and to go through – once again.

And yet, I knew in my head, my feelings would pass, and that I would be ok (again). I was just worn out.

It’s been a loooong ride for the last 15 years, and I was getting tired of holding on while the rollercoaster took off, one more time. I wanted off. I wanted to quit. I wanted to escape to a place where my kids and grandkids were, but with no pressure, no decisions and no thoughts or concerns of wondering whether or not I was doing life the right way and making the right choices.

I was tired of fighting to find joy amidst sorrow on top of sorrow.

I was tired of trying to keep it all going when I was coming apart inside.

I was tired of the conflicting emotions that exists in the heart of the griever.

I was tired of every happy life moment being laced with the truth that someone I loved was missing, and I was worn out from feeling both sides of that coin.

I was also tired of expecting better of people, only to be hurt again and again and again. Fifteen years is a super long time to have numerous people, on numerous occasions – and in very different ways – betray you, shame you, gossip about you, lie to you and pretend to be something they weren’t.

I.was.exhausted!

The last fifteen years felt like they were finally going to get the best of me.

Until they didn’t.

Things didn’t shift overnight – but something changed and I knew that no matter what happened, I would be ok.

I reminded myself that every time I had been face down on the ground (literally) – I always got back up. And what mattered, wasn’t the times I wanted to quit. To stop. To say to hell with it all – what mattered is that I didn’t quit. I didn’t stop looking ahead or let the heaviness of my feelings keep me in a place I wasn’t supposed to stay.

I visited – but I didn’t build a house in this dark place. It was a temporary stopping point, not the place I would retire.

I say all of that, to say, that when life feels like it’s beating the ever loving shit out of you – it’s OK to be anything but good, fine, joyous, happy or whatever verb you want to use.

It’s ok to doubt yourself, God, the world and the people around you! Just don’t stay there. Reach out, reach up, share what you are feeling with someone safe. Let others prop you up. It’s ok to lean on those around you, and it’s also ok to collapse into their waiting arms. After all, that’s what real friends are there for!

After you get back up – and when you look back – it will take your breath away. Because you won’t believe that you’ve survived all you have. And that you not only survived, but that you are now thriving.

Life has lots of times that take your breath away – some are horrible, some are beautiful and others are somewhere in between. But I’m beginning to learn that there are times when I’ve reflected on what I’ve come through, and I pause and say to myself,

“My God, you have survived a shit ton of stuff. No wonder you feel tired for no reason on some days.”

Then I remind myself that just because I’m resilient, doesn’t mean I’m not battered by the storms I’ve encountered, and that they have taken a physical and emotional toll on me.

And that’s the part that takes my breath away – knowing how unfathomable my journey has felt at times – and seeing that I’m still standing. Still smiling. Still loving and still holding onto hope for a life that surpasses all the pain, heartache, sorrow, fear, anger questioning and more. And THAT – my friends – is absolutely breathtaking!

Let me say that while I don’t know what storms you are facing, and what things are taking your breath away – just don’t stop. Take time to break apart, to rest and to heal. But just don’t ever quit on yourself. Because I PROMISE – a day will come when YOU will look back on your journey, and it will be YOU who is breathless because of all you survived and endured – and you will be amazed that you were able to keep going!

Life will leave you breathless – and for countless reasons. Don’t ignore those times or pretend they are less than they are. You are out of breath, and you need to stop, slow down and start inhaling and exhaling – and sooner than you can imagine – you will be breathing normally again.

Being breathless can be beautiful, it can be terrifying and it can also be shocking. Let your breathless be a beautiful surprise waiting on the other side of the fearful kind we all too often experience, but don’t often talk about.

It’s ok to be breathlessly proud of you and your bad ass journey. No one climbs Mt Everest easily. You are,or have, tackled some seriously trying times. So look back and reflect and let your breath be taken away at all you’ve overcome! You deserve to see the view – because it can be spectacularly breathtaking!

As always, I share these experiences from my broken and reassembled heart – to yours ❤️‍🩹